


Honey, You Know I Will

by fardareismai



Series: Where You Lead [9]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Gilmore Girls AU, endless domesticity, gilmore girls 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-01-25 04:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12522784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fardareismai/pseuds/fardareismai
Summary: Autumn has come to Storybrooke, which means cool days and nights, tourists chasing the changing leaves, and Halloween!Part of Where You Lead, an OUAT Gilmore Girls AU 'verse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Hello again everyone who is wonderful!  I present for your amusement, a Halloween-type story from our friends in Storybrooke.**
> 
>  
> 
> **As you probably know, this is an installment in my Where You Lead series- an OUAT Gilmore Girls AU.  This one is just fun and silly and I hope you enjoy.**

Mary Margaret and David waved at Emma and Henry from the far side of the Jolly Roger as mother and son walked in. The younger pair grinned and waved back, and Emma scanned the crowded restaurant quickly, until she found a four-top being actively bussed by Ned, and pointed at it, eyebrow raised in silent question. Mary Margaret and David nodded and stood, bringing their mugs along as they moved to the still-damp table.

Henry slid onto the bench beside David, who mussed the boy's hair and wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders, and Emma took the seat across from him beside Mary Margaret, after giving her a short hug. She glanced around quickly until she caught Jim's eye and mouthed the word "coffee" at him rather than lifting her voice above the clatter of the diner. He nodded and turned, and she returned her attention to her friends.

"Goodness, but I'm glad it's the weekend," Mary Margaret was saying. "You two have big plans?"

"Killian's taking me out on the boat!" Henry burst out, practically bouncing in his seat as he said it.

David nodded knowledgeably. "Probably going to be the last weekend of the year that's warm enough for fishing," he said, then glanced up at Emma. "You don't look like you're heading out on the water. Didn't rate an invitation?"

"I never do anymore," Emma said, heaving a big, fake sigh. "Don't have the right equipment."

"Killian can't loan you a pole?" Mary Margaret asked, brow furrowing.

"Not that equipment. These are boys-only excursions. Too much time with Mom apparently stunts the development of the modern American eleven-year-old boy."

Henry sighed. "That's not what we said! We said-"

Emma held up her hand to stop him. "You said you didn't want me, so I'm not coming. I'll do laundry between bouts of standing on my widow's walk, staring out to sea, awaiting the return of my men."

Henry rolled his eyes, but both David and Mary Margaret laughed.

Emma winked at her son. "No, I've got some sewing and laundry to do, so it's just as well I'm getting rid of the guys for a few hours."

"Oh?" Mary Margaret asked. "Something fun now that your dresses for me are done? Ruby sent me a photo of hers, and it's beautiful, Emma. I put it on my wedding Pinterest board."

"Of course you did," Emma muttered.

Mary Margaret ignored this. "You need to send me yours soon too so I can have them all."

"That's what I'm going to be working on today, actually. That's the problem with making things for myself- I tend to fiddle with them too much, or I give up on them completely."

"Really? I figured you'd be working on Henry's Halloween costume. It's nearly that time, isn't it?"

"Three weeks," Emma agreed. "And I would be working on it, but  _someone_  hasn't decided what he wants to be." She gave Henry a glare.

"Yes I have!" Henry objected. "I told you yesterday that I want to be Peter Pan!"

"And I told  _you_  yesterday that you're not going to school in tights. It's too cold, and it's against the dress code."

"But Mom-" Henry began, but was cut off.

"Oi! You're supposed to  _ask_  before you move tables you know."

They turned to find Killian standing beside the table glaring at them.

"So  _that's_  why I keep getting kicked out of other restaurants," Emma said with a grin. "They ought to put the rules up on the wall like at the public pool."

Killian snorted. "As though you're fit to go anywhere public, Swan."

"If I stop going out in public you'll lose your best and favorite customer."

He smirked. "Aye, well, I'm sure someone else could be induced to bring Henry by to see me sometimes."

Everyone laughed at that, Emma included, the color riding high in her cheeks as she did.

Killian set the mugs he was carrying in front of the Swans- hot chocolate for Henry and coffee for Emma- then rumpled Henry's hair.

"Order a good breakfast, lad, we've a big day planned." He dropped a quick kiss on the top of Emma's head, then left the party at the table.

"I've been wondering, Emma," Mary Margaret said a minute later after Jim had come by to take their orders. "I don't want to push you or nag or anything, but… have you given any more thought to the bachelorette party?"

"Yeah," Emma said, sighing. "That's on my to-do list today. Regina sent over a list of possible places last night, I was going to do some research on them while I had a few quiet minutes."

"We're playing video games out at the farm," Henry said, grinning at the thought. "Killian told me."

"We could do something at home too," Mary Margaret said, her dark eyes wide and guileless at Emma. "If you think that would be easier."

"The trouble with it isn't the matter of 'where,'" Emma said with a sigh. "It's  _what_. What on earth are we all going to do that will be fun but won't make your mother completely disown you?"

"Why do you have to invite Mim in the first place?" David asked. "Bachelorette parties are usually just for the bridal party, aren't they? Mother of the Bride doesn't need to be invited, does she?"

"She's coming at Thanksgiving and staying through to the wedding," Mary Margaret said with a sigh. "We can't keep her out of anything that happens in December."

"And you're kicking your mom out of the house that night," Emma continued as Ned and Jim appeared with their breakfasts. "So we'll have her as well, and we wouldn't keep Granny away, and since I expect we'll be in Misthaven anyway, Regina will expect an invite. Wicked stepmothers are the least of our concerns."

"I'm sorry, Emma," Mary Margaret said, eyes glued to her eggs and hashbrowns. "I didn't realize it was going to be so hard. You don't have to do it, you know."

Emma waved this away with her forkful of waffles. "Don't be stupid, Mary Margaret, of course I'm going to do it. It's your wedding and it's going to be perfect- or as close as I can make it. That doesn't mean I'm not going to pull my hair out a bit first. I'll come up with something your mom won't object to, promise."

"No more wedding talk," David ordered, around a bite of toast.

"It's not wedding talk, it's-" Mary Margaret began.

"We're taking the weekend off," David said, pointedly. "Emma, what are you dressing as for Halloween? You always come up with something fun."

Emma glanced at Mary Margaret who rolled her eyes with affectionate annoyance, but she did not continue talking about her wedding, only turned her interested eyes to Emma, waiting for an answer.

"Um… I dunno," Emma said, shrugging. "I'll probably pull something out of the back of my closet. I've got enough costumes in there that I shouldn't have to make another Halloween costume again until Henry gets married."

"But you always make the best costumes," David said, looking a little disappointed.

"Yeah, but it's been a busy year. Something's gotta give, and this time it's Halloween."

"You mean you and Killian aren't going to do a couple's costume?" Mary Margaret asked, bumping Emma's shoulder with hers and grinning.

Emma snorted. "Jones doesn't even like Halloween."

As though this were his cue, the man himself appeared to refresh David and Emma's coffee.

"I don't dislike Halloween," he said, responding more to Henry's look of shock and horror at this idea than Emma's actual words. "I dislike George's edicts that all of the downtown businesses must decorate for the season, and everyone's damnable insistence that pumpkin should be put into everything, whether it belongs there or not."

"I  _like_ pumpkin," Henry said with a grin.

"Then put it in a pie, not coffee, my lad."

Henry frowned into his mug at that. "How would it taste in hot chocolate, do you think?"

Killian shot him a dirty look, which made Mary Margaret laugh.

"If you want to try it, sweetie, I'll make it for you. I like pumpkin too," she said, winking at Henry.

Killian transferred his glare to Mary Margaret, who met it with a look of such sweet innocence that he couldn't even respond. He turned on his heel and stormed off, muttering something about 'interfering women' as he went.

Emma and David watched him go, then met each other's eyes across the table, grinning.

"I can't imagine why you wouldn't want to be Cinderella to that Prince Charming," David murmured.

Emma's eyes sparkled with laughter over the rim of her coffee mug, but she didn't say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Happy Friday, y'all!**

Emma sighed and closed the tab with the last website that Regina had sent her to look at for the bachelorette party. She paused the movie that had been playing in the background and dialed her mother's number on her phone.

"Did you look at the list I sent you?" Regina asked. She never greeted her daughter when she called.

For once, Emma didn't mention that fact. "I did. I love the one- the spa with a full bar? That's actually perfect, but it's so expensive."

Regina sighed. "Yes, I was afraid of that after what happened with the dress. It did seem right up your alley though."

"Alcohol and pampering? Is there anyone whose alley that isn't?"

Emma could hear Regina take a deep breath as though to answer, then let it out. "Well no," she said.

Emma sighed as well. "It would be really nice to spend the night before the wedding getting massaged and pedicured and all… we're all going to be exhausted, and I don't think Mim could possibly object."

"Mim?"

"Mary Margaret's stepmom," Emma explained. "Miranda, actually. Miranda Stone-Blanchard. They don't get along well. Mim thinks Mary Margaret should have moved to Boston with Leopold and her when they went."

"Why didn't she? Was it her young man?"

Emma laughed. "No, she didn't see David then. She did actually go with them, at least for a little while. She got her teaching degree in Boston, but she came back to teach in Storybrooke."

"Why? There are teaching posts in Boston, I'm sure."

"Couldn't say. She always said it was just because it was home. If I were a romantic-"

"Heaven forbid."

"-I might say that it's whatever gravity that brings soulmates together. David got married just before she left for New York to get her culinary degree, and was divorced within six months of her getting back."

"I didn't realize he'd been married before. Does that worry her?"

"No," Emma said, very definitely. "Maybe if he were someone else- or she were. But those two? No."

"I see," Regina said, slowly. "Well… And what about you and your Mr. Jones?"

"Killian's never been married before, so it's not really an issue for us."

Emma could hear her mother rolling her eyes from over the line.

"Yes well, that wasn't really what I meant. How is he? How are the pair of you?"

"We're good, Mom. He's got Henry out on the boat today so I can do some laundry and sewing. They think it'll be the last warm weekend we get this year."

"Sewing? Oh, well, I'd thought I might see if I could take Henry Halloween costume shopping but if you're-"

"Go for it," Emma interrupted quickly.

"What?"

"When do you want him? He's got to do his homework and clean his room tomorrow since he won't get it done today, but you could have him next weekend if you want."

"You're not making his costume?"

"No," Emma said with a sigh. "He can't decide what he wants to be, and with the wedding I feel like I've been  _living_ in my sewing room lately."

"I see. Well I'm happy to take him, of course. I'll plan it with him, shall I?"

"Sounds great. He's got a school dance the Friday before Halloween, but other than that I don't think we have any plans that can't be wiggled a bit."

"You're… you're sure you don't want to make his costume?" Regina sounded truly concerned.

"If he picks something in enough time and wants me to make it, I will," Emma said. "But he's really too old for me to pick his costumes for him."

"Well, if you're sure… what about you then? You never miss an opportunity to dress up. Will you and Mr. Jones be stepping out together as…" Regina stopped for a moment, clearly thinking. "Well, he'd make a good Prince Eric, but you'd have to dye your hair to be Ariel. You'd make a good Elsa, but she didn't have a love interest, did she?"

"Nope," Emma said lazily. "He could be the singing snowman, but Jones doesn't like dressing up."

"Really?" Regina seemed amused. "How long do you suppose that will last?"

Emma laughed but did not answer because at that moment her front door burst open and Henry barreled through the house like a bull in a china shop.

"Hi Mom!" he shouted, throwing himself practically on top of her where she was lounging on the sofa to hug her.

"Hey Kid," she said, moving the phone's speaker away from her mouth. "You smell like fish. You want to talk to Regina before you have a bath?"

"Hi Grandma!" he called toward the phone. "I know what I want to be for Halloween, Mom!"

"Oh?" Emma said, nodding at Killian who, more circumspect than Henry, had only just made it to the entrance to the living room.

"I want to be a pirate! Killian taught me a pirate song!"

Emma raised her eyebrows at Killian who appeared to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as Henry began a near-shouting rendition of "Drunken Sailor" which was so tuneless as to be only recognizable by its lyrics.

"I'll have to thank him for that," Emma muttered darkly. "Kid," she shouted, " you're not on the boat anymore. Inside voice."

Henry brought the volume down a decibel or two, and Emma's shoulders un-tensed.

"Being a pirate is easy, since you've already got the costume. We'll check it out later, okay? Now, do you want to talk to your grandmother, or do you want to take a bath?"

Henry snatched the phone from her hand, greeting Regina happily as he bounced off the sofa and started toward his bedroom.

"Porch, Henry," Emma called. "So you don't get your sheets and blankets dirty. I just finished washing them."

Henry turned on his heel and went out the front, leaving the house feeling remarkably silent in his wake.

"Do I need to shower before I can join you?" Killian asked, stepping toward her hesitantly.

Emma pushed herself up on the couch and leaned forward to let him kiss her.

"You smell like fish too," she said, wrinkling her nose. "They were biting?"

"Aye, it was a good day. I'll go have a shower then. Do I have something to change into?"

"Yeah, you've a laundry basket up in my room. Thanks for talking him into something easy for Halloween."

Killian grinned down at her. "Well, you've enough on your plate just now, haven't you?"

He leaned down to press another kiss onto the top of her head then straightened and headed for the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **There's some possibility that next week's chapter will be posted from a hospital where my newest nephew is being born. If something goes wrong, it might be a day late, but at this point it seems like all should be well.**
> 
> **The conversation at the end of this chapter is one I had almost word-for-word with my husband, who still hasn't listened to this album all the way through. "Why does that sound like something _anyone_  would like?" is his running refrain regarding this phenom.**

Granny, Dennis, Ruby, and Emma stood together behind the Inn's front desk, frowning down at the calendar showing on the computer screen in front of them.

"There's the Harvest Festival," Granny said, tapping the screen on the block showing the week before Thanksgiving. "Then we decorate the Inn for Christmas here-" this time it was the weekend after Thanksgiving. "The last of the leaf-peepers will leave around then and the first of the snow-chasers-"

"What are the odds on actually getting a white Christmas this year?" Emma asked with a sigh. It had been five years since the last one. They'd had snow- sometimes near-apocalyptic quantities- but the weather had always perversely held off until December 26th or later and Christmas Day had dawned green and sullen.

Dennis frowned and tapped a finger on a date in mid-December, then lifted his eyes to Emma and nodded.

"Really? I put my money on another green Christmas. I think I have the 27th or 28th."

Dennis pursed his lips and shook his head, tapping his date again with a knowing look.

"Well I hope you're right," Emma said. "Besides a white Christmas, Mary Margaret will get her white wedding."

"Right," Granny said, bringing them back to order. "There's the wedding-" she tapped the screen again, "and then she's gone until the second, right?"

"Right," Ruby said. "They're going to…" She trailed off and looked at Emma, questioning.

"Fiji?" Emma suggested, unable to remember. "Jamaica?"

"Some island in the Caribbean where they won't be troubled by White Christmases or George's Winter Wonderland event," Granny said, sounding grouchy at their tendency to allow their attentions to wander. "Which will be during the week between Christmas and New Year's and for which we are playing host for food, drink, music, and sleigh rides." She shot an annoyed glare around the younger contingent. "Which means, since not only are we hosting, but we're doing so down a head chef, there's no Christmas vacation being offered this year. You get Christmas Eve and Day and that's all."

She looked at the three of them, as though expecting them to object, but none of them did- they'd all figured this out for themselves weeks ago.

"Mulan's classes will be on hold for the holiday," Ruby said, glancing down at a red-leather covered planner that sat flipped open to December. "She's offered to put in a few hours here at the desk."

"And Killian has offered a few evenings in the kitchen," Emma added.

Dennis nodded, and Granny translated for herself. "And Leroy will come help the maintenance team, that's good."

"A few of the teachers at the school have asked about picking up a few hours as well, and some students," Emma said, glancing down at her own notebook.

"Henry can come out here if Killian, Jefferson, or Regina can't take him," Granny continued.

Emma nodded and made a note to contact Regina about that. She'd have no problem keeping Henry for his entire winter break, but Henry would probably want to spend some time in Storybrooke to see his friends during their time off of school. Killian would be nearly as busy as they were with the flood of tourists for the town events. The Jolly was already covered over with the first of the leaf-peepers most days. Any of the teachers they couldn't take on at the Inn would probably become short-term wait staff at the diner.

"So that's the future," Emma said, looking up from her notes. "Back to the present- this weekend we've got Storybrooke National Honor Society coming out to help us do Halloween decorations."

"Honor Society? High school kids?" Ruby asked, with a skeptical look.

Emma shrugged. "Apparently it counts as community service, and we could use the help. George has half of them decorating downtown, some of the rest are doing the middle school for the dance, and I got a group of somewhere between five and eight, depending, to help us out here."

"Are we paying them?" Granny asked.

"Only in apple cider and doughnuts, you old scrooge," Emma said, without heat.

Granny took no offense. "Probably still too much, they're likely to be more trouble than they're worth."

"Well, Mary Margaret will still be here so-"

"So with her as carrot and you as stick, I'm sure we'll manage," Granny concluded. "Yes, I know."

Dennis reached forward and touched Halloween night, then looked up at the women with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Since it's a work night, we're not doing much," Ruby explained. "The Inn is the oldest building in town though, Belle comes out and tells local ghost stories. It's good fun. When Halloween is on a weekend, we do it up proper with a haunted house and everything."

"Thank goodness that's not this year," Emma said, fervently.

Dennis nodded his agreement to that.

The front door of the Inn opened at that moment and all four of them looked up to see who was coming in. Frowns lightened instantly when Grace and Henry bounced in, followed by Jeff.

Emma came around the desk to hug both kids, then turned to Jeff as they went around the desk to talk to Granny, Ruby, and Dennis.

"Thanks for picking him up and bringing him out," Emma said.

Jeff waved this off with a smile. "We were on our way out to the Pendragon farm to go looking for pumpkins. It was on the way."

"That sounds nice. We got a shipment of pumpkins and decorative gourds for the Inn. Not as much fun, but a lot less time-consuming."

"If I needed as many as you guys do, I'd get them shipped too."

Emma shrugged, watching Granny leading the kids back into the kitchen to get after school snacks from Mary Margaret. "Maybe, but it doesn't feel like Halloween if you haven't been out to the pumpkin patch at least once."

"Henry was saying you aren't making a costume this year. Maybe  _that's_  why it doesn't feel like Halloween."

Emma snorted but didn't bother answering this.

"Come on, Emma," Jeff said, bumping her shoulder with his, "couldn't you get Jones to agree to be Flynn Rider to your Rapunzel?"

"Oh, he'd make a good Flynn Rider," Emma said. "I'll have to keep that in mind for a year my best friend isn't getting married."

"At your age? You'll be lucky."

Emma shot him a glare. "Why are you still here?'

He grinned. "Mary Margaret is feeding Grace."

"You're a nuisance."

He slung an arm over her shoulder and steered her in the direction of the kitchen. "You love me."

Once in the kitchen, Mary Margaret handed out cookies to all of them, which brightened Emma's mood.

"Hey, Mom!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Emma said to her son whose cheeks were so full of cookie he looked like a chipmunk.

Henry swallowed heroically.

"Hey, Mom!" he said again.

"Hey, Kid!" she answered back.

"I know what I want to be for Halloween!"

Emma frowned at him. "I thought you wanted to be a pirate."

He made a face and shook his head. "Pirates are boring. Everyone's a pirate. I want to be Alexander Hamilton!"

Emma blinked, completely wrong-footed.

"Okay, I know I didn't graduate high school but… that's the guy on the ten-dollar bill, right?"

"Uh-huh!" Henry said, brightly.

"Not… not a movie character or… a musician or something. A founding father?"

"Well… yeah. But he's kind of a character too!" Henry explained.

Emma looked around herself blankly only to find that Ruby and Jeff were sniggering and watching her.

"Okay, what am I missing?" she asked.

"Are you seriously telling me you haven't heard about  _Hamilton_?" Ruby asked, still giggling.

"I assume you're still talking about Alexander Hamilton, the founding father," Emma said, sounding annoyed. "I didn't realize I needed to be keeping up with his press clippings at this point."

"It's a Broadway musical, Emma. God, pick up a newspaper!" Ruby said.

"Last time I did that, planes were flying into buildings," Emma muttered, but no one was listening.

"Honestly, I can't believe you haven't heard of it," Jeff said, finally calming his laughter enough to speak.

"It's a hip-hop musical about the American Revolution and the life of Alexander Hamilton," Ruby said.

"Why does that sound like something I'd like?" Emma asked, completely lost. "That doesn't sound like something  _anyone_  would like."

"Violet loves it," Henry said. "She loaned me the album, so we can listen to it, Mom. Anyway, she's gonna be Eliza Schuyler, and I want to be Alexander Hamilton."

"Um… okay…" Emma said, still clearly at a loss.

Ruby had been fiddling with her phone and handed it to Emma. "That's what the costumes look like."

Emma frowned at the photo on the screen in front of her. "The guy in purple?" she asked.

"No, that's Thomas Jefferson," Ruby said. She pointed at two characters, a woman in a sea-green dress, and a man in what looked like a green velvet frock coat.

"Oh…kay," Emma said. "And people are going to recognize this character?"

"Yes!" chorused Jeff, Grace, Ruby, and Henry, making Emma step back in shock.

"Okay, okay! Sorry! So… Violet has this dress?" Emma asked.

"Not yet," Henry said. "She's asking her mom to make it for her."

Emma frowned down at the picture. She happened to know that Gwen didn't sew, and wondered if she'd bring the commission to her or just buy a costume.

"Alright," she said, looking at it carefully, trying to figure out exactly what the character Henry wanted was wearing. She didn't think it would be too difficult- she could probably get a few pieces she could alter from the secondhand store and fudge the rest. "If you want to be a founding father, far be it from me to stop you."

She frowned at the picture again. "Thomas Jefferson?" she said after a moment. "But… he's black."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I won't get to talk to you guys again until after the holiday, so for my dear American readers, Happy Thanksgiving!**
> 
> **For my lovely non-American readers, Happy Everything Else!**

"I'm just like my country I'm young, scrappy, and hungry," Emma muttered to herself under her breath as she stirred milk into her coffee.

The Jolly Roger thrummed around her, smelling of the afternoon scents of frying grease and grilling meat, overlaid, as it always was, by the constant bitter smell of coffee. The rhythm of the restaurant wasn't exactly the rhythm of the song in her head, but it was close enough that the two bumped along together, cheerfully discordant. Emma thought the bright autumn sunlight streaming through the plate window helped keep the dissonance pleasant. Had it been raining, as it had been for the past few days, it might have been creepy.

"Um, excuse me?"

Emma jumped slightly and turned, though she was fairly sure the voice wasn't directed at her. She was right- the woman appeared to be trying to get Killian's attention as he returned from the back where he had just dropped off a load of dishes to be washed. He turned toward her with a distracted "aye?".

With a quick glance, Emma made the girl as a tourist. She didn't know everyone in Storybrooke, it was true, but there was something ineffably 'big city' about her clothes and manner, or maybe she'd seen her at the Inn that morning without registering her. Regardless, Emma was sure she wasn't a local, and settled in for the coming entertainment.

Killian's confrontations with tourists tended to go one of two ways: either they annoyed him by expecting him to accommodate some odd, city notion of theirs, or they tried to flirt with him (indiscriminate of sex, generally), which also annoyed him.

She thought it was probably a little cruel, but Emma did enjoy watching Killian get annoyed with someone who wasn't her once in awhile.

"You're the owner here, right?" the girl asked, flashing a bright smile up at him. "It's a really great place. I love your decorations-" she gestured at the pumpkins and colorful leaves decorating the front window, "-they're so cute. Fall's my favorite season, you know."

Emma hid a smile in her coffee cup as the girl (really, she ought to stop thinking of her as a  _girl_ , she couldn't be more than three years younger than Emma herself, but she seemed  _so_ young) fluttered her lashes at Killian. Emma trusted him, of course, and even if she hadn't, he knew she was sitting right there and wasn't stupid enough to flirt with someone else in front of her.

Besides that, the girl had chosen entirely the wrong tact. Killian hated being forced to decorate for the season- any season- and it was only George's annual browbeating that got the decorative gourds into the window in the first place.

"Aye, it's my place," he said, diplomatically ignoring the rest of her comments.

Emma was pleased that the diner wasn't terribly busy. If it was, he'd have already blown the tourist off and she'd have lost her entertainment. Fortunately, at just-after-three in the afternoon, the small handful of people could easily be managed by Jim, and Killian could devote his attention to this annoyance.

"Oh I thought I detected an accent!" she said, leaning forward on the counter and grinning conspiratorially at him. "I'm not from around here either but well-" she gestured in the general direction of Killian's mouth, "-not from as far afield as you. What brought you here? It's a cute town but…"

He raised an imperious eyebrow at that 'but.'

"I've lived here fifteen years," he said.

She didn't seem to notice his quelling tone. "Oh wow, you're practically a local! Where are you from originally?"

The muscle in his jaw twitched and Emma knew he was moments away from an explosion.

"Drogheda."

"That's in England?"

Emma winced.

"Ireland," he bit off. "Is there something I can do to help you? Only this is my job and I should get back to it."

"Well," she said, with an insinuating smile, "I'd love a cup of coffee, but I've been just craving pumpkin spice, you know?"

"No," he said.

For the first time, the tourist seemed to notice that, far from picking up what she was putting down, Killian appeared to be actively avoiding it.

"No you don't know what it's like to crave pumpkin spice, or no-"

"No, I do not make pumpkin spice lattes in my diner," Killian growled. "That syrup doesn't even taste like pumpkins, though why you'd want your coffee to taste of a pumpkin, I do not understand. You do realize that pumpkin is a squash, aye? Given your affinity for putting vegetables in drinks, I wouldn't be shocked when the next big coffee innovation out of Seattle is gazpacho!" He raised his voice. "Someone bring me the bloody catsup, I'm about to invent Starbucks' next summer sensation!"

The girl was standing, open-mouthed at this.

"If you want a cup of coffee that tastes like bloody coffee, I'll serve it to you," Killian continued, apparently on a roll. "If you will insist on drinking something that tastes like the inside of a craft store, go to the Inn and let Mary Margaret make it for you. Go on! Out!"

The girl was quick to go, and Emma felt a little bad for her. She hoped she did go to the Inn- Mary Margaret was good at soothing wounded egos.

As soon as the door fell shut behind the tourist though, the entire diner broke out in applause.

"Oh shove off, the lot of you," Killian said, not deterring them a bit. He turned his glare on Emma. "And what are you smirking about, Swan?"

Emma bit back her smile and opened her eyes wide to give him an innocent look. "Smirking? Me? Perish the thought. Mary Margaret made Henry some pumpkin bread. I take it you won't be fighting him for it?"

He snorted and settled across the counter from her.

"Not like you to advertise your competition, though I appreciate it."

"Pumpkin spice lattes are not competition," he said. "Besides," he continued, sighing and scratching behind his left ear, "if she's looking for 'cute' and 'autumnal,' she can hardly do better than the Inn."

"Aww, you are sweet after all," Emma said, grinning, then she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"See that you don't." He glanced at the clock on the wall and reached for the coffee pot. "You want another refill before the lad gets out of school?"

Emma opened her mouth to say 'yes' when they both caught the sound of the school bell on the wind.

"Your clock has gotten off," she said.

"So it would seem."

Killian replaced the coffee pot turned back toward his work station and Emma turned to watch out the front door. Kids started passing the big plate window at the front of the shop after about five minutes and the smell of hot apples and spice hit her nose after ten.

For all his complaining, Killian made one willing concession to the season: from Labor Day to New Year's, he served hot spiced cider, like everyone else in the area. It seemed to Emma that one wasn't allowed to call themselves a Mainer (and even less a citizen of Storybrooke or Misthaven) without being a complete addict of the stuff, which had always left her feeling a bit left out, since she didn't like apples much, herself.

It was an odd quirk of fate, that, because the amber gold liquid in the two mugs that Killian had just set on the counter beside her for Henry and Grace, who had just appeared at end of the road to the diner together, came from the Mills Orchard and Cider Works, from which Regina got the majority of her money and local influence.

Henry, on the other hand, who took his seat on the barstool and started slurping the contents of his mug happily, had his father's taste for apple cider.

"I know what I want to be for Halloween," he said by way of a greeting.

Emma blinked. "What happened to Alexander Hamilton?"

He made a face and shook his head. "Violet's mom can't make the costume for her. She's making her wear the same princess dress she wore to my birthday."

"So you want to be a prince with her?"

Henry shook his head again, then glanced at Grace before turning his big, brown eyes back to Emma. "Grace and I want to do a costume together."

"Okay…" Emma said, slowly. It wasn't a problem- Henry and Grace usually coordinated their Halloween costumes, even if they had left it late this year- but something in the way Henry was looking at her and Grace wasn't was setting of "mom alarms" in her head. "What do you want to be?"

"Spiderman," Henry said, quickly.

"And you'll be Mary Jane?" Emma asked Grace. Jeff wouldn't be thrilled- he didn't like comic books, and Grace did her best to hide her addiction to them from him- but Emma thought she could probably talk him around to it. At least it wasn't-

"No, I want to be Deadpool," Grace said.

"Not a chance," Emma said immediately.

"Mom!" Henry cried.

"Kid!" Emma answered back. She looked at Grace. "I'm sorry, Sweetie, but your dad would kill me."

"I thought maybe… you could try to talk him into it? He listens to you."

Emma shook her head. "Maybe if I'd started this summer, but there's no way I can bring him around in a week and a half."

"Well maybe he doesn't have to know!" Grace said, the idea apparently just coming to her. "I could get changed at your house and-"

"First," Emma interrupted, "your dad's going to want to take you to your first school dance himself. I can guarantee that. Second, if you think he'd let me take you without sending him a photo of the pair of you, you don't know him at all. Third, this is Storybrooke. People talk."

Grace looked like she might start crying, and Emma felt herself waver.

"Well… Henry's grandmother offered to take him costume shopping. Maybe she could take both of you? It gives me plausible deniability, and if Jeff stopped speaking to Regina-"

"We can't do store-bought costumes!" Henry said, sounding horrified. "We want  _good_ costumes."

Emma sighed and looked apologetically at Grace. "I'm sorry. I can't do it unless you can talk Jeff into it."

Grace frowned into her mug and Henry was pouting.

"Do you still want to be Spiderman, Kid?" Emma asked, tentatively.

"No," he said, flatly.

Emma sighed again. It seemed to be a mother's lot to always be disappointing her kid. It was a pity she also had to disappoint someone else's kid at the same time.

Killian joined them from across the counter to take the kids' mugs.

"Halloween costume trouble?" he asked, having apparently caught the gist of the conversation.

"Yeah," Henry said- his annoyance was apparently not with adults in general, just with Emma. "Mom won't make us the costumes we want, and now we don't know what to be. Again."

Killian met Emma's eyes with a commiserating smile, then reached out to rumple Henry's hair.

"Aye well, you're a clever lad. I'm sure you'll come up with something." He met Emma's eyes again briefly. "Perhaps there's a character from a film you like?"

Henry just shook his head and continued to glare. Emma shrugged silently at Killian, and handed him her mug, pushing herself up and off the stool.

"Come on, kids. Gracie, we'll walk you home."

The sun had vanished behind a cloud, and it looked like it would rain again before too much longer. Emma pulled on her knit beanie as they crossed the green toward the tea shop.

"What about you, Emma?" Grace asked, apparently more willing to forgive her than Henry was. "What are you going to dress as for Halloween?"

"Oh I dunno," Emma said. "People seem to think I should be a Disney princess. I like Aurora from Sleeping Beauty."

"Yeah," Grace said, the last of her upset clearing from her face as she imagined this. "Killian could be Prince Philip and I'll be Maleficent!"

"And what about me?" Henry asked, still clearly in a contrary mood. "All I could be is a fairy or a crow."

Grace shrugged, not letting his grouchiness bother her. "The crow was also a dragon. I always thought it was cool."

Emma smiled as the pair of the descended, as they always did, into squabbling about the merits of different Disney movie casts.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Boy is it ever Thanksgiving week, and boy did I ever forget that today was Friday? That's why this is so late: I left the house to deal with the family stuff that comes on the Friday of Thanksgiving week, and did not even think to post this until I'd already arrived at my mother's house and didn't have a computer.**
> 
> **This is the last chapter of this story, and the last planned chapter of the series for 2017. Last year I wrote a couple of one-shots for the "I Will Follow" collection, and that might happen again this year, but in addition to all the usual dramas of the Holiday Season, my sister's first son is meant to be born on Monday, which adds its own stressful spice to the time.**
> 
> **There may be Christmas fic, there might not, we shall see how life treats me. Chances are that I'll be gone through January though, but if you ever want to chat or just see what I'm on about, feel free to follow me on Tumblr. My handle is "asthewheelwills."**
> 
> **Love you all, and Happy Holidays!**

"Mom! I don't know what I'm gonna go as!" Henry shouted, stomping up the stairs toward her room. "I don't have anything I want to wear!"

"Give me a minute and I'll come help you," she called back.

He didn't answer this, so Emma turned from her vanity mirror where she'd been trying to put her hair up to find him standing in the doorway of her room, staring at her open-mouthed.

She looked down at herself as though expecting to see something other than the careful drape of the white gown she was wearing, completely unadorned, save for the silver belt cinching her waist. It was much too cold in Maine in late October to wear nothing under the dress, as Carrie Fisher had purportedly done, so Emma was wearing a pair of silk leggings and a thermal top, the white cuffs of which could be seen peeking out of the blousy sleeves.

"Is it all right?" she asked as Henry continued to stare at her as though she were a ghost.

"It's… it's really good," he said, though he didn't look happy. "You made it?"

Emma shrugged self-consciously. "It was kind of supposed to be a surprise. Hey, what's up, Kid?" she asked, as Henry's eyes filled suddenly with tears.

"You have this great costume and you didn't make me anything!" he said, his voice shaking.

"Oh Henry, I would have," Emma said, reaching out for him and drawing him into a hug. "You couldn't decide on a costume though."

"You didn't even  _say_ Star Wars," he mumbled into her shoulder.

"I wanted you to pick for yourself," she said. "But if Star Wars is okay with you, I might have something for you in my sewing room."

Henry pulled away from her, eyes wide, tears suddenly forgotten. He shot out of her room and into the sewing room in a moment, and by the time Emma had followed him, he was unfolding the jacket that was sitting conspicuously in the middle of the work table.

"Woah!" he cried, holding it up to her to see.

Emma had found the leather jacket at the thrift store in the spring. Its clean, boxy lines had reminded her of Poe Dameron's jacket in the newest Star Wars movie, and she'd bought it on the vague idea that it might prove useful. She'd fiddled with it for a little while after- adding the red epaulettes and trim down the sleeves- and it had been sitting mostly-finished in her work room since Mary Margaret's engagement.

The rest of the costume had been simple. She'd called Regina two days ago and asked her to go to the mall in Misthaven and pick Henry up a pair of Dockers and a collarless shirt, both of which sat folded on the work table. Emma had had an idea that it might be wanted.

"This is so awesome, Mom!" Henry said, picking up the other clothes and looking them over, grinning like a supernova.

"Glad you like them. Go get dressed then, I'm going to finish my hair. Wear your hiking boots with it, okay?"

"Yeah, kay," he said, taking up the costume in his arms and darting out of the room.

Emma smiled after him for a moment, then returned to her vanity to continue messing with her hair. She didn't have enough naturally to do the cinnamon-roll buns that went with the costume, but Carrie Fisher hadn't either, so Emma had borrowed some clip-in extensions from Ruby for the purposes. With her own hair darker than usual- the result of a rinse that would wash out over the course of the next few days- the chestnut extensions only looked a little odd.

After utilizing an entire pack of bobby pins and half a can of hairspray, she had two reasonably-solid-looking buns over her ears. She shook her head slightly, and while they felt very odd, she didn't think they were likely to fall out.

She heard a snort from behind her and turned to find Henry sniggering in her doorway, dressed in his costume.

It was a man's coat, if a small one, and it hung on her son's skinny frame like scarecrow clothes, but he looked pleased.

"It's time to go, Mom. I can't wait to show Gracie my costume!"

~?~?~?~?~

The school parking lot was mostly empty still. The only cars were those of the teachers and the other chaperones. Emma had left her own car by the diner, which was running a hopping business behind its gold-lit windows.

It was dark and cold enough that no one much was out on the road, so Henry and Emma made it to the school without running into anyone particular.

Emma had noticed, having attended a dozen or so of them, that schools have a certain smell, even when empty. Even the nicest schools- the private school she'd attended after being adopted by Regina, for instance- had it, though it was somewhat masked by old wood and money. Public schools, however, always smell strongly of young sweat, wax crayons, and dried ketchup. Just at the moment those smells were overlaid- though not significantly diminished- by the smell of industrial cleaner, but it was impossible to step inside a school building, Emma believed, without suddenly feeling as though you have stepped back in time.

"Come on, Mom," Henry said, tugging her out of her thoughts and in the direction of the gym. "Ms. Jasmine is waiting."

Ms. Jasmine was indeed waiting at the door of the gym, dressed in a beautiful teal Indian garment that Emma couldn't name.

"Hi Henry!" she called, grinning at him. "Hey Emma. Great costumes, both of you! I knew they'd be awesome."

"I'm Poe Dameron! From Star Wars!" Henry said, preening under her gaze.

"So I see. Go on into the gym. There aren't a lot of other kids here yet, but they'll start arriving soon."

"This is really nice," Emma said, tapping the embellished sleeve of the teacher's outfit.

"Thanks. It was my grandmother's, so it's not technically a costume, but I love wearing it and never have enough opportunities."

"Wear it to the Nolan wedding."

"Really?" Jasmine sounded dubious, but interested. "You think it'd be okay for that?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't it be?"

Jasmine looked down at herself. "Well, it's a little formal. You don't think I'd upstage Mary Margaret, do you?"

Emma laughed. "She'll be the one in the poufy white dress. I don't think anyone is going to mistake you for her. Besides, you'd only be upstaging her if it were red, right?"

Jasmine laughed as well. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"You ought to talk to Ruby about that. I think she'd prefer to get married in red than white."

"Oh… are she and Mulan-?"

"No, I don't think so. Maybe someday though. I think Granny would really like that- getting to plan Ruby's wedding. But you're right, there's no ticking clock or anything."

That seemed to remind Jasmine, and she glanced at the opposite wall where there was a large clock.

"We have about twenty minutes before the kids start arriving. Do you mind watching the coat room while they come in? You can be in the dance once everyone has arrived."

"Whatever you need," Emma said.

"Thank you so much for doing this, Emma. And for getting Mary Margaret and Killian to provide food and drinks. I'd never have thought of it!"

Emma shrugged. "It is, quite literally, my job. And they like me, after all."

Jasmine smiled. "You always take care of everything, you know? Go in and get a drink and a cookie before you go to the coat room. I'll be here if there's anything you need to ask."

Emma moved past her into the gym which was mostly empty, though the big space echoed the voices of those people who were there to make them sound like many more. There were three other parent chaperones and their respective kids, and Mary Margaret and Killian standing together behind a long table covered in cookies on napkins and cups. Henry was at the table, talking to these two, so Emma crossed over to them.

Killian saw her first and grinned, which brought Mary Margaret's attention to her. She looked between Killian and Emma for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

"What's up?" Emma asked, as she joined the group at the table, picking up a cookie as she came. She had a weakness for Mary Margaret's oatmeal molasses cookies.

"Mary Margaret has been harassing me about not wearing a costume to a Halloween dance," Killian said.

Emma glanced at Mary Margaret, who was dressed as a witch and still giggling, then drew her eyes over Killian, beginning at his toes. He was wearing black boots, skinny jeans, an open-collared white shirt, a black cargo vest, and a smirk.

"I did suggest the costume because I knew you had it all in your closet," Emma said around a bite of cookie.

"Aye, well it doesn't look like much without the all-important accessory of the appropriate arm-candy. Apple cider, Princess?"

"I'd rather kiss a wookie."

He grinned, knowing her feelings about apple cider. "What about some smuggled contraband then?" he asked, digging in a box under the table and pulling out a thermos.

"Why you scruffy nerf-herder," Emma said in fake shock.

"The word you're looking for is 'scoundrel,'" Killian said, taking off the top and pouring her a cup of hot chocolate.

Henry stared between Emma and Killian, his mouth open in shock. "Did you two  _plan_ this?" he asked.

Emma shrugged. "People kept suggesting Disney princesses to me, so I decided to go with my favorite."

"Your favorite Disney princess is Princess Leia? Mom, I'm pretty sure you're a nerd."

"Kid, I'm pretty sure you're actually the  _last_ person to have noticed."


End file.
